Missed Opportunity
by Lady Sloane
Summary: Charlie Weasley seems to have always been single. But what if that wasn't the case? Then, why would he have remained single for so long? CW/OC


**Missed Opportunity**

School: Beauxbatons

Theme: Magical Bugs

Main Prompt: [Character] Charlie Weasley

Additional Prompts: [Emotion] Heartbreak, [Illness] Dragon Pox

Year: 3

Wordcount: 1587

A/N: This is set in the years after Charlie graduated from Hogwarts and goes to work with dragons in Romania. In canon, he never does have a significant other, and I wanted to explore the circumstances that might have led to his decision to stay single.

* * *

Dragons were Charlie Weasley's life and soul. For as long as he could remember, he had been obsessed with everything related to those fierce creatures, and despite the fervent warnings from his mother about the dangers of dragons, Charlie Weasley had pursued his dream of being a dragonologist.

His younger brothers, Fred and George, liked to joke that his brain was filled with nothing but dragon-related stuff. For the most part, that was actually true.

But if that were so, why was it that he had to force his mind to stay on topic as he walked through the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary on his daily rounds? He did this every day, and it was one of his favorite parts of his routine actually, inspecting the various dragons. But he couldn't keep his mind from drifting away, which was extraordinarily dangerous when working with dragons.

Charlie couldn't help but reflect that his walk through the sanctuary was much quieter than usual today. He knew the reason, of course, but he also knew that if he started thinking about Elena, he would never be able to dig himself out of the tunnels his mind would take him down. So he steadfastly turned his attention to the task at hand, although with much difficulty.

At last, he finished his rounds. Ironically enough, all of the dragons were healthy, not a single one of them having even the most minor of problems. That was good, of course, and normally would be a cause for celebration. But today, even though the sun was shining with no clouds in sight, everything felt somber and gloomy.

Washing up, Charlie hurried immediately to the medical tent. For a few weeks now, he had been spending most of his time there, not caring for his dragons, but sitting by Elena's bedside.

Charlie knew that dragon pox was extraordinarily contagious, and he had been told that he was lucky for not yet contracting it from all the time he had spent sitting with Elena. But sometimes he wished that he would catch it himself so that he wouldn't have to live in a world without Elena for long.

No one had realized that she was sick for a long while, and by the time they'd found out, it had been too late. Everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before she succumbed to the disease. Knowing that, his co-workers and boss didn't berate him when he sometimes skimped out on dragon duties in favor of spending time with Elena. While she was beloved by all of them—it was a small and tightly-knit community, after all—Charlie was far closer to her than anyone else.

They had first met at the dragon sanctuary. Both of them had just recently graduated from their respective magical schools, Charlie from Hogwarts, and Elena from a small Romanian boarding school that Charlie didn't quite know how to pronounce, and both had been looking forward to pursuing their passions in dragonology. At the beginning, they had often been paired together to do the grunt work. Charlie had grown to love her sense of humor and her stunning blue eyes. Before he knew it, he had fallen head-over-heels in love with her, and—to his great amazement—she with him.

They had gotten together, after that realization, and they had just seemed to click. Their personalities were extremely compatible with each other's. Sure, some of the things Elena did annoyed him to death sometimes, like her habit of biting her nails, but in general, they worked. That wasn't to say that they didn't have any fights; they did, as many of their fellow dragonologists could attest.

By now, they had been dating for almost three years. Charlie had started to formulate plans for proposing to her. There had been talk of meeting Elena's parents, as they lived so much closer, and eventually, his parents, if they could get enough days off for that. International Portkey costs were astronomical, and it just wasn't worth the money to drop by and visit his parents for only a day. He didn't know exactly what Elena's parents thought about their relationship, but he knew that his mum, in particular, was impatient for grandchildren.

But then the dragon pox had struck.

Looking back, Charlie berated himself for not having noticed the signs of the disease sooner. But the type that Elena had caught was a deadlier strain than most, if only because oftentimes, the symptoms showed up when it was already too late. And that was definitely the case this time. By the time the symptoms had manifested, there had been nothing anybody could do for her, except for making her last days as pain-free as possible.

Charlie took Elena's hand in his gloved one. He watched her sweaty, feverish body for several minutes, or perhaps it was hours. Time became a blur. Sparks shot out of her nostrils every time she exhaled. She was racked with shivers every few minutes. But even with angry red pustules marring her green-tinged skin, Elena still looked like the most beautiful of angels. Nothing could compare with her beauty, even when she was on her deathbed.

Suddenly, Elena's eyelids fluttered open. Her normally brilliant blue eyes were cloudy and unfocused. Then they fixed on Charlie, and he sucked in a breath. It was as if Elena's penetrating gaze could see into his very soul.

She smiled, and it seemed that all would be well in the world. They were no longer in the medical tent, but sitting together on the outcropping of rocks overlooking the reserve, watching the sunrise before they had to go on their rounds. Elena was no longer sick but dancing with him in their tent.

His reverie was broken by a spate of coughing, and Charlie realized that it had been just a fanciful daydream; Elena was still sick, and they were still in the medical tent. A tear slid down his face.

Elena stopped coughing. "Don't cry, dear." She wiped the teardrop from his face with a tender hand.

Charlie savored the contact and smiled weakly back at her.

Perhaps she had seen something in Charlie's facial expression, for she said in a fierce tone, her voice raspy from her constant coughing, "Promise me that when I'm gone, you won't mourn me for the rest of your life. Promise me that you'll find someone else to spend your life with." She had another coughing fit then, this time more violently than the ones she'd had previously.

Charlie helped Elena sit up and drink a few sips of water.

"Promise me!" she demanded.

"Elena..."

"Promise me!" she said, her voice hoarser, quieter this time.

Charlie gave her the only honest answer he could. "I'll try."

Elena nodded, somehow sensing that that was the most that he would promise. Then her eyelids fluttered shut—the curtains to her beautiful blue irises closed forever. A moment later, the rise and fall of Elena's chest stopped. Charlie felt desperately for a pulse, but there was nothing. The steady beating of the organ that had kept the blood flowing throughout Elena's body for the past twenty years had stopped forever.

"No," Charlie cried out in anguish.

He had known that Elena was going to die; everyone had known that the dragon pox had progressed too far to save her. But for some reason, the cold finality of death had not sunk into him until that moment. Never again would she whisper stories to him as they conducted their daily rounds. Never again would they go hiking through the woods that abounded throughout the sanctuary. Never again would he feel that he was a half of a whole, rather than a lonely soul floating boundlessly in space, perpetually alone.

He felt hands press against him, heard voices urging him to get up, to release Elena's hands, take a shower, lie down, sleep. He went through the motions in a trance blurred by grief. Everything seemed like a dream, or rather, a nightmare where all his worst fears came true. There didn't seem like there was a point to living anymore. He wished that he too would contract dragon pox and join Elena in death, never mind the fact that it usually wasn't deadly except in the cases of the young, the elderly, and when it was caught too late.

As it turned out, Charlie did end up contracting dragon pox, caused by his prolonged exposure to someone with the disease. But the dragon sanctuary had been aware of his higher risk for the disease and the mediwizards had nabbed him as soon as he had shown symptoms. At the time, he had wished they hadn't. But his convalescence had been quick, and afterwards, he'd been sent back to England for a few weeks of "recovery".

How it could be termed as "recovery" when his mother alternately doted over him and bemoaned his choice in career was beyond him. After a week, enough was enough, and he headed back to Romania. At least there he had his dragons.

And while the creatures couldn't fill the void in his heart left by Elena, they did help to slowly diminish his heartache. But not a day went by that Charlie didn't think about her. Not a day went by that he didn't wish she was there, alongside him.

But his dragons provided comfort to him in the darkest of times. And that was enough for now. Somehow, he would get through this, one day at a time.


End file.
